New Media
by Moriwen1
Summary: Ten years after the fall of Sunnydale, Buffy starts getting weird texts.


_hi gorgeous. remember me?_

Buffy blinked at her phone, which was currently featuring a lime-green text from " _unknown number._ "

 _Wrong number_ , she typed back, tapped send, then blacked out the screen and replaced it in her pocket.

The phone buzzed again, and Buffy sighed, fished it out, and glared at the screen.

 _u gave me ur number. said 2 call anytime._

"Take your boots off the table," Buffy said absently to Dawn, who had just sauntered in. "I don't even want to know what that . . . oozing thing on them is," she continued, as Dawn pouted and swung her feet down, "and by the way, have you been giving out my number to guys at bars?"

"Believe me, if I meet any cute guys, I give them my number, not yours. Why would I even give them yours?"

"I don't know, but who else even knows this number? This is my old number, from Sunnydale, not my work number. And I've been getting these weird texts, see - huh." A new series of texts had arrived from the same anonymous number.

 _yellow hair, pointy stick_  
 _temper is pointier yet_  
 _out for a walk, bitch_

"Oh my god!" Dawn peered over Buffy's shoulder. "He's texting you haikus! That's so cute!"

"It is not cute," Buffy snapped, swallowing her sense of nagging familiarity. _Stop contacting me, this is harassment,_ she texted back.

The reply popped up in moments. _id like to harass u._  
 _  
That's not funny,_ Buffy responded.

 _liar._

The smoke alarm went off, then, and Dawn had to go shut it off while Buffy yelled at the junior slayers who were at fault. She blocked the number, later, and thought nothing of it till Thursday.

On Thursday, Buffy was struggling with the stupid self-checkout and enough groceries for several dozen Slayers when her phone buzzed at her. Expecting last-minute grocery list revisions, she dropped everything to retrieve it, only to be faced with a new text from another unknown number.

 _r u seeing some1?_

 _No,_ Buffy responded, and hit enter, before thinking better of it and adding _none of your business._

 _kissing to music_  
 _best thing i have ever had_  
 _i want it all back_

The old lady behind Buffy was starting to cluck and grumble, so Buffy only rolled her eyes at the poem and texted _get lost_ before putting her phone away and finishing her shopping.

(She checked the phone later, telling herself she needed to see if Kennedy and Willow wanted to go patrolling. But the only text was from the unknown number.)  
 _  
u always say that._

Buffy blocked that number, too.

The third number texted her on Saturday. It was less sweet.  
 _  
if u wont talk to me i bet ur sis will.  
_  
That killed all temptation to talk (out of curiosity, only out of curiosity) so Buffy had no compunctions in texting back, _Keep my sister out of this or I'll hunt you down and make you regret it._

 _mm. feisty._

 _Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?_

 _how wud u like me 2 talk 2 u?_

 _I don't want you to talk to me at all. I thought I conveyed that the first two times I blocked you._

 _& here i thought u 3 me._

 _You are seriously the creepiest person I've ever met. And in my case, that's saying a lot._

 _thx._

 _I don't even know your name. I have you entered into my phone as "Creepy Stalker Dude."_

 _william_

 _Okay, William, you're persistent but you're barking up the wrong tree. I don't know any Williams, I have no interest in getting to know any Williams, and I don't date. Sorry._

 _u know me._

 _You don't count._

 _i never did._

The series of texts lasted nearly a week, Buffy telling herself each time that she wasn't going to respond, she wasn't going to encourage whoever this crazy guy was, she didn't care what he had to say. (It never worked.)

She was in the shower when it all came crashing down, and she ran naked and dripping wet into her room to find her phone.

 _William?_

 _yeah?_

 _Spike?_

Pause.

 _yeah?_

 _How are you texting me? What's going on? Where are you?_

 _they have wifi in hell :)_

Buffy stared at the infuriating smiley face for a minute solid before formulating a reply.

 _Where are you really?_

 _la_

 _What?_

 _los angeles, idiot_

 _You're alive?!_

 _no im a ghost in la. what do u think. if i were a ghost i wouldnt be in bloody la._

 _Why did you think texting me anonymously after TEN YEARS was the best way to convey this?_

Pause.

 _does this mean i can video call now?_

 _No, I'm not dressed._

 _tell me more._

 _You didn't see fit to inform me that you weren't dead, I'm not talking to you._

 _ok. can u still text?_

 _I'm talking to you, there's no way I can go through with this, give me an address and I'll be there tomorrow, don't you dare disappear on me again._

 _give me urs._

Buffy did.

 _on mi way. see u 2morrow._

She couldn't sleep all night. She told Dawn - it was only fair to tell Dawn - but no one else, terrified of false hope. They kept a quiet, lonely vigil, interrupted only by the beeps of Dawn playing Angry Birds on Buffy's phone. (Spike was, presumably, on an airplane, and not answering texts.)

Early the next morning, the phone vibrated, and Dawn handed it to Buffy. Hovering over Dawn's facebook was a single green rectangle, no different from the one which had started the whole fiasco.

 _im here._


End file.
